Miss Mabel's School for Girls (23 page)

Nice to see you too, Miss Scarlett,
I wanted to say.
I’m already failing my own mark, thank you very much. I’m sure I don’t need your help in showing Miss Mabel that I’m in over my head.

Michelle averted her eyes to the floor as Miss Scarlett handed us two bulbous mushrooms and a paper with instructions.

“Michelle, you did a remarkable job on the Everyday Hexes test,” Miss Scarlett said with a softened tone. “I have full faith that you will complete this well.”

Once Miss Scarlett departed, Michelle peered at me from between clumps of hair.

“Does she scare you when she’s that strict?” she asked.

I watched Miss Scarlett walk to the front of the class and sighed.

“No, because she’s right. I should be able to do it. Does she scare you?”

“No. She’s a really good teacher. I like her. She lets me study in her office sometimes because it’s quiet.”

She looked as if she wanted to say something else but stopped. I knew why she studied in there. Too many third-years gave her a hard time because of her gangly arms and large body. Seeking refuge with Miss Scarlett didn’t help her reputation, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Holding the paper so both of us could read it, I skimmed through the instructions. They were succinct, like Miss Scarlett, but easy to read. When I finished, I looked up to Michelle.

“Have you ever–”

Stopped by something that didn’t look right, I glanced down to the table to find three identical mushrooms, in addition to mine. A hot blush crept across Michelle’s face as she looked away.

“You already know how to do a deception spell?” I asked.

She popped the extra mushrooms.

“I learned awhile ago.”

“Who taught you?”

“My older brothers.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

“Five.”

“Do you have any sisters?”

She shook her head, and her bangs swayed. Her family makeup explained her tomboyish characteristics.

“You did a perfect job.” I studied the mushrooms. “Really.”

Blushing again, she looked down.

“Thanks.”

“Will you show me?”

Michelle demonstrated the right way to sound out specific syllables, and within my first two attempts, I made three duplicates of the mushroom. It felt so good to learn a magical skill again, to step away from the blasted scrolls choking me, that my awful mood began to be alleviated. Miss Scarlett popped them when she came to loom over us.

“Do it again,” she commanded.

Michelle’s nearly inaudible voice worked the spell. Another mushroom appeared onto the desk, and Miss Scarlett gave a nod.

“Good.” Her approving tone shifted back to all business again as soon as she turned to me. “Now it’s your turn.”

I duplicated my mushroom with ease. Miss Scarlett left with only a nod of approval. We popped the mushrooms as she departed and sat in the quiet.

Michelle gazed up at me with her timid brown eyes.

“I’m glad you won the Competition,” she said. “I knew I wouldn’t have liked being Assistant. At first I felt stupid because I didn’t make it past the first round. But when I saw Miss Mabel, I realized that I’m glad I didn’t win. She’s so beautiful and confident that she scares me.”

“Then why would you compete?”

She shrugged, and her cheeks flushed. I wondered if her desire to win the Competition had something to do with wanting more friends.

“Why are you here at Miss Mabel’s?” I asked to clear the air. Her face lit up.

“I want to be a baker at Chatham Castle.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She looked away. “It sounds wonderful.”

“You’re taking the Culinary mark now, aren’t you?”

“Yes. It’s just Rebecca and me in the class, but I like it that way. I don’t really like crowds, and Rebecca is nice. Miss Celia’s been able to teach me a lot I didn’t know already.”

“Then why are you taking this class?”

“I still like doing other forms of magic. Then, if baking doesn’t work out, I have a back up plan. It was my father’s idea.”

Miss Scarlett interrupted by calling our attention to the front.

“Thanks for working with me,” I said and smiled at her. Struck with shyness again, Michelle mumbled a reply, grabbed her mushroom, and rushed back to her desk. She knocked over Priscilla’s books and apologized profusely while she gathered them, her face a flaming red. Priscilla bestowed an exasperated look on her and rolled her eyes when Michelle walked away.

I tried to picture Michelle as the Assistant. When the image couldn’t collect, I turned my attention back to the lesson with a sigh.

Sometimes I couldn’t picture myself as the Assistant either.

Loyalty

I
woke up the next day panting, sweaty, and disoriented.

Trying to figure out where I was only confused me further until I took in the familiar drapes on the window. The nightmare began to slip away, into the tendrils of night and my subconscious. I let the details go with it, not wanting to remember.

The wet pillow slapped my cheek when I dropped back, as I tried to work my way into reality for far too long. It did little to remove my fear of the upcoming interrogation.

Miss Mabel is gone. She is not questioning you. Miss Mabel is gone.

My desk stood against the door, barring the way out in case I tried to leave while under the influence of the Veritas. Taking it for the third time the previous night guaranteed a repeat of the same grueling experience, shortened not at all. Was I putting myself through this for nothing? I was no farther along than after the first exposure to Veritas.

Exhausted, but unable to relax enough to go back to sleep, I climbed out of bed and got dressed. Miss Celia would be up to get breakfast ready by now. I would go get my instructions for the day from her. Relief that I didn’t have to face Miss Mabel propelled me down the stairs earlier than usual. I loved an early start to the day, even if I felt tired enough to fall sleep while walking down the stairs.

While she worked, Miss Celia hummed a quiet tune to herself that greeted me when I entered the kitchen. She jumped in surprise when she saw me.

“Bianca!” she cried, putting a hand on her chest. “You scared me! What are you doing, standing there like some kind of ghost?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Celia. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She gave me a dirty look, but it softened when she regained her breath.

“What are you doing up so early?” she asked.

“I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come report to you and get an early start on my lessons for the day.”

She pulled a piece of paper from her apron pocket.

“That’s very wise of you. Miss Mabel assigned you a heavy load.”

Wish I could say that was a new occurrence.

“Thank you, Miss Celia.”

Four new scrolls in a different language, two books to read, and a class with Miss Amelia on trust potions. I folded the instructions back into a small square and hesitated before turning to go. 

Despite being so busy with homework that I studied while I ate, I felt a twinge of pity for Miss Celia, working all alone in the kitchen, day in and day out. I knew how that felt. It was no secret that she liked having people around, and I would do anything to avoid hitting the books again.

“Would you like some help, Miss Celia?”

She stopped drying a large bamboo bowl to stare at me.

“You want to help in the kitchen? You’ve got so much to do!”

“I don’t mind.”

Shocked speechless for several moments, she pointed towards a pile of potatoes.

“Go ahead and peel them if you like. I certainly don’t mind either.”

The soothing, predictable routine of the warm kitchen helped relax my tense muscles. We worked in a companionable silence for a long stretch of time before Miss Celia broke it. Her tone was cordial in a way I’d never heard before.

“How do you like being the Assistant so far?” she asked.

“It’s great.” I had to choke the words out. “Miss Mabel has taught me so much already.”

The lie wasn’t entirely false, but I hoped it didn’t sound as invented as it felt. Miss Celia continued kneading a lump of dough without seeming to notice.

“You look very tired,” she remarked. “Are you staying up late to do homework?”

“Yes,” I answered too quickly. Trying to ease my tone, I took a breath. “Miss Mabel has made the homework extra challenging.”

Miss Celia smiled to herself.

“She loves to test her Assistants, but you can handle it. You would have never gotten the position if you couldn’t. Mabel is the best teacher out there. Pressure and responsibility are driving forces, but only knowledge creates power.”

Her small token of support had a surprising buoyant effect, giving me a little needed reassurance. 

Confidence in all things, Bianca.

“Thank you, Miss Celia. How long have you worked here?”

“I started long ago, when Mabel, Miss Mabel’s grandmother, ran the school. My husband and I lived at the northern edge of the Network. When he died, I wandered around for awhile looking for a job, and ended up in Letum Wood. Mabel found me and took me in. I’ve been here ever since.”

I stopped peeling the potatoes in surprise.

“Miss Mabel’s grandmother was named Mabel?” I asked.

“Yes. She died several decades ago.”

An unmistakable tension edged her voice.

“You are very loyal then,” I said, changing the subject to bring the easy atmosphere back. Papa taught me that people give information better when they feel at ease. “To have stayed so long.”

Affection bled back through her tone.

“Yes, well, I had a good hand in raising Miss Mabel myself after her mother left without any explanation. Mabel was only a baby at the time. How anyone could leave such a beautiful, calm child, I’ll never understand! Anyway, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I’ve lived here most my life, and I’ll die here. Mabel is my family, and that’s all I need.”

I didn’t have an opportunity to ask her more. She quickly switched subjects, something in the speed of her change indicating she felt she’d said too much.

“Miss Mabel mentioned that you are working for the Esbat mark before the next meeting. That’s very ambitious of you.”

“I’m hoping to attend.”

And dreading it, too.

“That mark will serve you well in the Network for the rest of your life. You should talk to Scarlett. She got the Esbat mark when she worked at Chatham Castle.”

I almost dropped the slippery potato in my hands and scrambled with it for several seconds before regaining a firm grip. Miss Scarlett had the Esbat mark? Working hard to neutralize my tone, I asked, “Oh, she worked at Chatham, did she?”

“She’s the best lie detector I’ve ever met, which makes for a great teacher. The woman could make Veritas with her eyes closed.”

“That’s very interesting,” I murmured, and the silence collected again.

After putting the peeled potatoes in a pot, hanging up the towel, and wishing Miss Celia a good day, I took an apple, cut off a chunk of bread, and disappeared upstairs, Miss Scarlett on my mind.

•••

I wasn’t sure what I stood to gain by talking to Miss Scarlett, except for criticism about my responsibility to handle the Esbat mark on my own. The thought of losing control during the interrogation propelled me towards her classroom against my better judgment.

The lull between lunch and the next set of classes, when the students gathered in their rooms to clean up after eating, seemed the best time to go. I took advantage of the opportunity. The deserted halls felt empty, the quiet sound of clanking glasses following me from the kitchen.

Sitting at her desk with a rigid, nearly inflexible back, Miss Scarlett didn’t notice me standing in the doorway until I cleared my throat; she had been focused on a letter. When she looked up, her eyes narrowed. A prim set of glasses sat on the edge of her nose.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if you could answer a question.”

Her sharp eyebrows lifted higher in expectation. Taking this as permission, I took a few steps into the room.

“It’s about Veritas.”

She turned back to the paper in her hands.

“If you have to ask me about it, I can’t help you.”

Undeterred, I took a few more steps towards her. The familiar blast of heat and spices hit me like a wave. Sandalwood. Her silky red drapes danced in a draft of cool winter wind from a slightly open window.

“Miss Celia mentioned that you had a particular talent for it.”

“You’re working towards the Esbat mark, Bianca. You’re an Assistant. You shouldn’t have to ask for help.”

“Miss Mabel isn’t here, and I don’t need help making Veritas. I just have a question about it.”